Power Struggle
by BrookeSutter
Summary: After Clarke and Finn fight, Bellamy gets the wrong impression. Bellamy/Clarke. Upgraded to M.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Fights

Her hand connected with the soft stubble growing on his face, causing a sound relatively resembling thunder to erupt from the contact. Finn glared at her—actually had the nerve to glare at her—as he brought his hand to feel the heat radiating from the forming handprint on his cheek. Clarke huffed, "Don't ever touch me again!" Who did he think he was? Finn faked spontaneity, running his mouth to form an excuse to be in the drop ship only so he could grip her wrist as tight as he could to inform her of his whimsical emotions. As if she wanted to hear him say _I love you _again. As if she didn't know the position his words put her in—

She was the _other _woman.

She would always be the _other _woman because Finn assigned her that role in his life.

He took her last bit of innocence after being arrested, after being in solitary confinement, after killing Atom, after the hardships of Earth and he_ destroyed_ it. He crushed the tiny white flower that represented her purity and tainted it black because she was nothing more than his _whore _in the eyes of Raven…maybe even in the eyes of the others that floated around camp as well. She could not turn back time, she could not right her wrongs—and Finn was most definitely wrong.

"Clarke, will you just listen to me?" Finn asked her, removing his hand from his face so he could talk with bogusly sincere gestures. "I love—" Clarke covered his mouth with her hand, noting that she did not think much about it before she did it. Her move to shut him up was reflexive.

"No, you love Raven. _Raven._" Clarke emphasized her name, "I do not want you, Finn. I do not love you. Get out." She released his mouth, turning on her heels. "If you do not get out, I will leave." She waited for him to move but he did not. She sighed heavily before exiting the drop ship for the first time in three hours. _Where will Finn not follow? Where will Finn not follow? Well…I could always discuss rations with Bellamy and Finn dislikes Bellamy… _"Bellamy!" Clarke called, knowing Finn stood a few feet behind her, adamant in the fact that he would follow her everywhere until she agreed to talk to him—or really, agreed to agree with him.

Her co-leader flashed her a resentful look, annoyed that she would interrupt his conversation with the pretty little brunette in front of him. Clarke rolled her eyes, motioning for him to come to her. Finn remained still. When Bellamy joined her, she exhaled not catching herself before a small smile of victory and relief appeared on her lips. "What do you want, princess? I was in the middle of something _important._" _Typical, _Clarke thought, disgusted by his open lewdness.

She heard Finn snort from his position against the drop ship wall, "We should go somewhere and talk about rations. Right now. Somewhere private." Three minutes and she wouldn't have to deal with Finn's longing looks and impromptu feelings. If only she could get Bellamy to agree…if only she could hide herself away for the next hour as they argued and argued on food allowance and prevention of theft. Never did she think arguing with Bellamy would be something to look _forward _to.

Bellamy gave her an odd look but eventually nodded his head. Clarke would give anything to know what was going on in his mind—what prompted the look in his eyes. "After you princess…" He extended his arm towards the gate and she furrowed her eyebrows. "The only real privacy is out of these walls. You wanted to be alone, right?"

"Right." She agreed, casting a look back to Finn before they exited the camp. Bellamy and she walked in silence until they were far enough away so they could talk. She opened her mouth, "I really don't want to talk about rations." She said honestly, "I want—" His lips melted on hers in a crushing manner, a gasp escaping her mouth when he shoved her against a tree. She pushed on his shoulder, breaking the kiss. "What the hell are you doing?"

He rolled his eyes, mumbling "Virgins…" before he reclaimed her mouth, his tongue tickling her bottom lip to gain entrance. She let herself fall into it, her mouth opening for him as he pushed her harder against the bark. He broke away, panting before pressing their foreheads together. "Is that what you wanted, princess?"

"Not at all." Clarke said, "And Bellamy…"

"Yes?"

A devilish smirk appeared on her face, "I am _not _a virgin…don't kiss me again."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Bruises

Vivid oranges, light pinks and soft purples radiated across the sky as Clarke and Octavia stumbled into camp, their arms filled with seaweed and a few pieces of wood from the storm. The girls were laughing with their whole bodies, nearly dropping their loads every few feet as they tried to contain themselves—tried to act like they didn't just have one of the best afternoons on Earth. Of course, they knew as soon as they returned that they were going to be read the rules that Clarke created and hand-wrote herself by their malcontent leader. Actually, that was probably another reason the girls couldn't control their excessive giggles because it was _Bellamy. _It happened the moment he pressed his lips to hers, or maybe that's when she noticed it…Bellamy felt for her—not as much as he felt for his sister, obviously, but he still cared for her like he cared for Octavia. So, his anger would not be from their disobedience but because he was concerned for their well-being like they spent too many nights concerned for _his. _

Octavia laughed so hard she snorted when they walked through the gate, dropping the two logs she carried her arms on the ground before leaning over. "The look on your face when you tripped!" Octavia squealed, "Oh my god—Oh my god!" She fanned tears away from her eyes, trying to compose herself once more before breaking out into another laugh. "You just fell down that hill, didn't you?"

"Oh, keep talking dirt girl. Last time I checked, I didn't face-plant into the ground because I tripped over the same thing a quite sexy blonde did." Clarke snorted, "I have a bruise, I swear."

By the grace of god, they managed to evade Bellamy and hide themselves away in the drop ship long enough to get their story straight.

Octavia agreed to take the blame although it was Clarke's _desire _to get medicinal herbs that drove them to take the trip. Octavia claimed that Clarke owed her one for her sacrifice. The next part of the plan involved Octavia telling her brother that she had the best day of her life, turning him into a giant sap because underneath the _jackass _exterior Bellamy was a _sap _for Octavia.

He walked in, annoyed—his arms flying by his sides as he built up his argument in his chest. "Before you say anything, I ran away. Clarke found me." Octavia said, "I wanted to see beyond these gates, Bellamy and I'm sorry but I seriously had the best day of my life."

The girls watched Bellamy softened at his sister's confession, extremely pleased with the outcome of their plan. "It was dangerous, O. Don't do it again."

She rolled her eyes, "No promises, Bell." Octavia did not stick around the drop ship because Bellamy didn't show any sign that he was leaving.

Clarke did not talk to him as she put the seaweed in its proper containers. She winced as she overexerted herself. She was no longer high on adrenaline and laughter—her side was inflamed with pain from her nasty fall. "What's wrong?" Bellamy asked and Clarke ignored him, hoping he would drop it. She did not need his attention on her body…because if he were to touch her, she wasn't sure she could shake him off again.

He was wrong.

He was so very wrong.

But the taste of him and the smell of him…that felt right.

And Clarke liked being right and she liked bending the rules.

He asked her again, "What's wrong with your side?"

She suppressed a giggle, "I fell, okay? It was stupid. It's stupid. I'm fine." Bellamy stepped over to her, lifting up her shirt until the band of her bra was exposed. Her face turned a bright red before the soft pads of his fingertips trailed down the red and purple skin over her ribs. It hurt but sent a pleasurable chill throughout her body. She shivered under his touch, whimpered when he pressed too hard.

"Sorry." He said lowly, bringing his intense gaze to her face. He was so close that she could bring her head up to kiss him. It was tempting—as tempting as falling for a bad boy could be. What is being a teenager without a crush on a slightly older man who may or may not be psychotic? "Do you need to do something about this?"

"Yes." She wasn't talking about her side and when she realized he was, she changed her answer. "No…its fine. I'll be fine."

His whole hand rested on her side, the warmth of his palm sending another shiver through her body. He felt the shiver and smirked. "What are you thinking about, princess?"

"Nothing." She replied honestly, her mind completely broken when it came to being logical. She did not think before she said, "But maybe if you move closer you can find out."

Bellamy hesitated, but lowered his head to kiss her. The kiss was chaste, really, because someone came barreling into the drop ship. "Clarke, we have to ta—" It was Finn. Of all the people, it had to be _Finn. _Bellamy pressed his lips to her lips before pulling away, winking at her before exiting the drop ship.

Her breath was stuck in her throat as she turned to an outraged Finn. "I don't have to explain myself so if that's what you're looking for, save your breath."

"Bellamy?" Finn asked, "Really, Bellamy?"

Clarke shrugged, "I guess. I don't really know what I'm doing." She was smiling but Finn was frowning.

"You're right, you don't know what you're doing…it's all part of his game, Clarke. It's not about anything but your power struggle." Finn said, "If he's got you—if you're in his trap, who's going to argue with him?"

"How can you say that?"

"Let this be your warning sign, Clarke. Bellamy and you will never...he will never want you. He will never love you. You mean _nothing _to him."

Clarke shook her head, feeling like she was going to burst into tears.

_He's absolutely right, Clarke…don't be a fool._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

"I've been thinking about you all day…" He murmured, his lips running across the back of neck before he turned her around. Clarke's eyes were wide, Finn's words replaying in her head over and over again. _He's wrong, s_he told herself and maybe it felt like a lie but she didn't care. She was a big girl, she knew what she was getting into the moment she tempted him. _I don't care if this means nothing… _

_Yes, you—_

She could feel his erection pushing into her like a friendly reminder that they were so _close _to crossing the unspoken lines they created with their former hatred. She didn't even think before she let out a soft, "Mmm…" She _really _couldn't help herself. They stood in the middle of the drop ship, the night air passing through the parachutes. His wandering hands pushed up her shirt until his fingers lingered over the clasp of her bra. He kissed her neck more intently, her appreciative moans escalating as he unhooked the black fabric and trailed his tongue down her skin. Her heart started to race when he rolled his thumbs over her nipples, not realizing how erect they would come.

Clarke attempted to unbutton his pants but he grabbed her arm, one hand still under her shirt. He gripped her wrist, earning a disapproving groan from her in the process. Eventually, he removed his other hand from her shirt and ran his fingers down her back towards the back of her thighs. He quickly pulled her up until her legs were wrapped around his waist, her arms forming a circle around his neck so he wouldn't drop her. He stumbled forward, lightly placing her on the medical table. He leaned forward, whispering in her ear, "Patience…"

Before she can respond, his mouth his pressed against hers. The mindlessness of his drugging embrace caused her to moan in his mouth after a few teasing sweeps of his tongue. He takes both of her wrists in one hand, the other one forcing her shirt over her head. Clarke leaned forward, breathlessly, so he could easily remove the tattered cloth. His free hand moved up her thigh, rubbing along the fabric—which seemed thinner than before—as he continued to tease her. Honestly, he didn't know if he could keep it up much longer. He purposely hooks his finger in the waistband of her pants, easing them down until he changed course and unbuttoned her pants. "This hardly seems fair." Clarke complained as he yanked the material down her legs, removing her underwear in the process.

As he moved his hand back to her thigh, she let out another breathy moan. "Shh, Clarke…" He chuckled before his thumb moved dangerously close to her opening. He could only imagine how _wet—_how _hot _she was but he was determined to take it slow. Her breathing turned ragged before he even touched her, causing him to smirk because he'd effectively turned her on. She started to roll her hips, arch her chest anything that would stop the pulsating desires. He so badly wanted to _taste _her. He prevented himself from touching her sensitive areas, only to keep the moment alive. He loved watching her squirm, he loved watching her move her hips in anticipation as his lips left hot kisses down her jaw, her collarbone and her breasts.

Bellamy started to suck on her nipple, causing a low moan to echo in the drop ship. He stopped, pulling away much to her confusion. He looks down at her, catching her soft whimper, "Please…"

"Please, what Princess?" He teased as he leaned up, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Don't make me say it, Bellamy."

The corner of his mouth turned up, "Please, what Princess?" He repeated, his eyes moving across her body but never meeting her eyes.

"Please, fuck me Bellamy…" Clarke begged, instantly gasping as he moved over her body again. She tried to wrap her leg around his waist but he shoved her knee down.

"I'll fuck you when I think you've had enough." He whispers in her ear like before, only to be met by an agonizing groan. His threat was empty because he rolled off her once more to take off his pants. Her anticipation heightens once he's naked. She flinched when he grabbed her legs, her breathing changing when he started to nibble at her entire thigh. She started squirm because of his hot breath against her sex. She ached to rub her body into his face. Bellamy surprised her when his tongue darted out of his mouth, trailing across her burning clit. She lets out a strangled sound, bucking her hips to feel him against her again. The sound of her cries, the intoxicating taste of her overwhelmed him. She begs him to continue, and he's far too happy to oblige.

Clarke couldn't even remember Finn's warning anymore. She could see his unruly curls, and hear the animalistic moans moving through her lips. She tried to remind herself that it was _nothing—_she was giving into him and he would lose interests but it felt like _something. _She tried so hard to capture some type of dominance but she ended up rocking along with the strokes of his tongue. He started to suck her clit, her sharp gasps permanently etching into his mind. Her nimble fingers grasped the edge of the table, the sensation moving through her body like no other before.

She reminded herself that Finn and she hadn't worried about foreplay—it was all in the moment. This was entirely new to her. Bellamy wet his finger before inserting them into her, feeling the tension of his touch. Clarke moaned so loudly, he thought people would rush into the drop ship—somehow, he found it in him not to give a damn.

Her hips started to sway in unison with his thrusts, "Please, faster Bellamy…faster…"

He stopped, causing her to frown once more. "Are you ready?" It was a stupid question, he knew she was absolutely ready. Clarke gingerly nodded her head, his hand spreading her legs wider before he slid into her hot, sweet wetness. She forced a breath through her lungs, accompanying it with his name. "Fuck, Clarke…ahhh…" He grabs her ankle, locking her leg around his back as he continued to thrust into her. She arched her hips wildly, her moans becoming louder in the process. He moved faster and faster and faster until she thought she was going to combust. "I want you to be mine, Clarke…"

She honestly thought he was talking dirty to her like before.

"Say you're mine, Princess…"

"I'm yours." She nearly screamed, "I'm yours, I swear!"

He continued to thrust into her, moving so quickly—so hard that she felt so filled, so content. It was so perfect—the moment, his motions, her motions. Perfect. Bellamy sucked hard on her neck, his nails digging into her hips. "Fuck, Princess…you are so hot." He stiffened while he released, his head burying into her neck in the process. "You're mine."

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	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Power Struggle

_I'm a goddamn idiot. _

Clarke pressed her palm against the hot skin of her neck, eyes flooding with tears. Her lips were prominently swollen, discolored from their passionate caresses. Her ivory skin was stained red by the repeated blood rushing across her skin. Bellamy left her with a firm kiss to the forehead, an odd parting for a one-time thing that meant _nothing. _Maybe he was trying to say no hard feelings? Clarke clasped her bra with shaky hands, blinking the large tears away rapidly. _You can fix this. You can move past this. Dammit, why'd you give in? Why, why, why? _Her hand flew up to her mouth because she felt like she was going to throw up. She thought she forgot Finn's warnings, but she hadn't. She knew it was wrong, she knew that she was upsetting the balance but he _started _it, didn't he? What the hell was his game? How the hell did he define _mine? _

She dressed herself, feeling completely different. Clarke didn't know if she felt sick because she enjoyed sex with Bellamy or if it was because wanted to do it again or if she was actually disgusted that she _had sex _with Bellamy. Either way, she felt _dirty. _Not as dirty as she felt when she found out about Raven, though. Did that mean something? Maybe. Did she want to elaborate on that fact _now_? Hell no.

_God, I smell like him…_

_His sweat. _

The darkness shielded her as she stepped out of the drop ship. At first, she covered herself with the parachutes but then she made a run for it. All she wanted to do was go to her tent and possibly cry herself to sleep. Clarke shook her head, "No. Don't be a baby about this. You two fucked, no big deal. He's been with everyone. Chill out. It's not that bad." Her pep talk didn't really help, but she knew that she couldn't hide from him.

Rationally speaking, she couldn't hide from Bellamy. She could be professional if she took four deep breaths and pretended their sexual experience was a racy dream. They would have to talk about rations, medicinal supplies, herbs and Jasper kissing Harper—_what? _Clarke's eyes widened, having to change the course of her path to give them some privacy. "Dammit, is everyone hooking up around here?" She mumbled under her breath, thinking she should have stayed in the drop ship. _No, you needed the air… you needed the open space… you needed the walk… _

Everything felt wrong—off—because she was so fucking confused. Did it mean something? Did it not mean anything? What the fuck did "mine" mean? She had half the mind to ask him all those questions, but the smarter half of her mind said not to waste her breath.

In summary, she was torn.

Torn; sweet, hot, sexy, erotic, secretive, private and perfect.

Torn; wrong, inappropriate, unprofessional and…damn, what were her other adjectives?

She ran her tongue across her teeth.

_One-time thing, remember?_

_Or… _

Clarke ran right into Nathan Miller with a loud thump. As if by design, she fell right on her ass. "Oh shit, sorry Clarke." Miller said offering her a hand but Clarke swatted his offer away, claiming she could get up on her own. He chuckled softly, putting his rejected hand in the pocket of his jacket.

"It's not your fault, I wasn't watching where I was going." Clarke rolled her eyes, pushing herself up with her hands. She stopped mid-push when she heard Bellamy bellowing Miller's name from across the camp. "How did he even see you?" Clarke narrowed her eyes to try to get a better view before she blushed deeply and returned her sight back to Miller.

Miller shrugged, "Probably the glow of your halo, angel."

Clarke snorted and smiled at him, her foot moving back and forth in the dirt as she looked up at him. "Smooth."

He chuckled, "That was lame."

"Kind of." Clarke agreed, continuing the laugh at him. That is, until Bellamy completely silenced both of them with an intense glare that had undertones of a death threat. She pushed herself up finally, brushing off her pants. "Well…" She started to back up away from them.

"Walk safe, Ang—" Miller said with a charming smile on his face—strictly platonic.

"Stay, Princess…" Bellamy's words weren't platonic but that was only obvious to Clarke. She noticed the subtle plea and the softness of his voice.

"—el."

Bellamy narrowed his eyes at his lieutenant, "Go relieve Monroe." He said with wide, menacing eyes before he turned to Clarke. "Angel? I didn't realize you and Miller were so close."

"I didn't realize it mattered." She wasn't going to tell him that it was a joke, that it just happened and it didn't mean anything. She didn't feel like she had to tell him. She shrugged, "Don't you have something to do?"

He cleared his throat and nodded, walking away from her.

_I knew it._

_One-time thing. _

And now that she had her answer, she could move forward. She could take a few deep breaths, and move forward. She could inhale, exhale, inhale again and forget that she smelled like him. Forget that he could probably smell himself on her. Forget that he sounded jealous when he asked about Miller. Forget what they just did. Forget what she screamed. Forget what he asked her to scream. Forget their first kiss. Forget their second. Forget their third. Forget that she wanted more…

She could forget that, right?

_I'm a goddamn idiot. _


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Her eyes hovered over the entrance of his tent, purely curious to see if he was awake or not…and if he'd gone to bed with someone other than her. She knew she didn't have the right to be jealous but she felt the burning in her throat every time she thought about it. Clarke was distracted when she heard footsteps approaching her. "Think fast." Nathan Miller chuckled as he tossed her an apple, which she barely caught in her palm. He held another apple in his own hand, taking a huge bite of it as he looked her over. "Did it hurt?" He asked nonchalantly, causing Clarke to furrow her eyebrows and looked down at her clothes. _Am I bleeding or something? _She couldn't find any damage so she brought her questioning gaze back to him, meeting his warm brown eyes. A large smirk formed on his lips because he was clearly amused with her actions. "You know…" She noticed his humored drawl as he stepped closer, taking another bite of his apple, "When you fell from heaven?"

Clarke couldn't help herself, the laugh spilling from her lips almost immediately. "Wow…" She blinked rapidly as she tried to fight off the tears in her eyes for a moment, "Wow…" She repeated and continued on, "That was so corny."

"Don't rip my heart out just yet, Angel. I have been watching you all morning trying to come up with the perfect pick-up line." He took another bite of his apple, "You should smile more often. It suits you." She couldn't help the light blush that formed on her cheeks. Miller was a lot smoother than she originally thought. He was genuine, too.

Clarke playfully rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Fine," She smiled wider as she watched him mock her crossed arms, "_A _for effort."

He nodded slightly and rolled his eyes much like she did, "So…I actually have an ulterior motive for approaching you on this very fine, very sexy morning." Something told her he wasn't talking about the time of day. "You know how you can't leave the gate without a gun?"

"Of course."

"Right, well…I have a gun." This was something she already knew so her eyebrows furrowed once more in confusion. "And now that I have an _A—"_

"For effort."

He chuckled, "—when it comes to pick-up lines…okay, I'm asking you out on a date, Griffin." Miller's playful expression faded as he twisted his fingers together. "So, what do you say?"

Clarke stole another glance in the direction of Bellamy's tent. _Just one time, Clarke. Don't let what you did with him control your decisions. It didn't mean anything. It never will. It could mean something with Miller… it could work out for you. You could be happy with a guy like Miller. _"A date?" She asked nervously, peeling her eyes away from Bellamy's tent.

"Yeah, a date. There will be food involved just so you know." He was trying to smile for the benefit of being confident but she saw right through his exterior. Clarke bit her lip because she wasn't so sure of her answer until it was falling off of her lips.

"Okay. _One _date and the food better be fantastic." They shared a grin before he gently laughed and parted from her. _I've never been on a date before… _

-x-

Nathan Miller was proud of himself.

Too proud, maybe to realize that he was interfering with something completely out of his control—out of anyone's control. "Why are you in such a rush?" Monroe asked as she tossed him a ration pack, he looked at it and smiled to himself before tossing it back at her. "Bellamy, I think Miller's lost his mind. We might need to get him to medical because he just turned down _food._" Miller watched as their fearless leader chuckled lowly at Monroe's comment.

"I have a date." Nathan informed Monroe with a cheeky smile, "So…that's why I'm in a rush, that's why I'm turning down food although I'll probably end up in medical by the end of the night." He wasn't talking about sex, not really but if things progressed down that road—hell, who was he to say no to someone like her? He still couldn't believe she agreed to go on a date with him.

Monroe arched an eyebrow, "Finally ask out Harper?"

"No." Miller bit the inside of his cheek because he really didn't want to talk about Harper. He had a crush on her, sure but it was only a crush. He could move on from a stupid little crush. "Uh, actually I have a date with…" He didn't know if Clarke wanted people to know about their date. For a second, he didn't feel comfortable throwing her name around in front of Monroe and Bellamy. Of course, they weren't the gossipers in the camp but he knew all about rumors and such.

"C'mon, spit it out." Monroe encouraged him, "I want to know which boneheaded girl agreed to date the likes of you!"

Nathan sarcastically laughed, slowly letting it die down before he cleared his throat. "Uh, Clarke actually. We are going on a date tonight and—"

"Excuse me." Up until then, Miller didn't know Bellamy possessed those words in his vocabulary. It struck him as odd but one of Monroe's sassy comments broke through the barrier of his confusion. He never saw his friend walking into the drop ship, or the sea of people dispersing from it upon his arrival.

As stated before, he was too proud to see he was screwing with something beyond his control.

-x-

"Really? How am I supposed to treat people when their scared of you clearing the room every ten minutes? What the hell do you even _want_?" Clarke kneeled underneath the table to fetch the needle she dropped the second his loud, booming voice ricocheted off the walls like a stray bullet. If she followed her metaphor, she could claim that the bullet struck her in the chest and that's why her breathing was so incredibly labored.

Bellamy's fists were balled behind her and he was seriously considering throwing a few punches with someone—anyone so he could calm himself. "So, what are you fucking Miller now?" She nearly slammed her head into the metal table at the sound of his accusation. "That's nice, Clarke. Really cute." He bit out before he went to turn and leave.

"Hold on for a fucking second!" Clarke called to him, watching him whip around with that angry look in his eyes. She stood, brushing off her knees before stepping closer to him. "You don't get to tell me what to do, who to be with. I'm not your girlfriend. We have no relationship ties. I'm allowed to date."

"Not Miller. He's my second in command, dammit." He licked his lip before he walked over to her, "You are _mine, _Clarke. You said it—god, you screamed it. I don't understand why you're making this so difficult."

"I'm making it difficult?" Clarke exclaimed accusingly, "No…no you're making it difficult. What the hell do you want from me?" He moved so fast that her legs were pressed against the table before she even registered his mumbled response.

"I want you." He told her under his breath, his hands moving to the back of her neck so his fingers could lightly tug on her hair. "Don't make me beg for you. Don't make me break down in some touchy-feely confession because this isn't a fucking novel, it's life. It's Earth. I'm not going to get down on my knees and spill my heart out to you…and if you can't comprehend that I _want _you by the way I touch you…if you can't tell that I need you by the way I say your name…"

"I'm what?"

"Deluded." He whispered as his lips touched her neck, "So fucking deluded."

Clarke struggled to find words, settling on his name. "Bellamy…" She whispered in the same volume he'd conveyed seconds ago. "I—"

"You don't have to do it, either. Just know that I don't want you to go on this date with Miller. I don't want you to date anyone for that matter." He backed away from her, "I'll see you later, Princess."

_What the hell is going on?_

_I went from no romance…to three guys._

_Finn._

_Miller._

_And Bellamy. _

_Bellamy…_

**Where should our favorite couple go next?**

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